


Signals

by cory_silver



Category: Battlestar Galactica (1978)
Genre: Backstory, Fade to Black, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 07:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cory_silver/pseuds/cory_silver
Summary: "You can’t just say you’re interested. You have to, you know, show it. Send signals. If you start talking about it, you kill it.”Back in their Academy days, Starbuck decided to school Apollo in the art of body language.  It didn't go exactly as planned.Despite all the "pairings" this is about as explicit as a Mercedes Lackey novel.





	Signals

Galactica’s male Warriors usually wore their uniforms when they relaxed on the Rising Star. If you asked most of them, they’d probably say it was because it significantly increased their chances of getting lucky. Starbuck was pretty sure that wasn’t why Apollo wore his.

As he watched Apollo shifting restlessly in his seat, he thought that the uniform must remind him how in his professional life he was confident and competent, easily commanding the respect and obedience of a roomful of Warriors. Here on the Rising Star, Apollo was always a little more like the shy cadet Starbuck had first known and a little less like the Strike Captain he’d become.

* * *

Starbuck kept hold of Apollo’s upper arm so as not to lose him in the jostling Eigth-night crowd. It took some quick maneuvering to lay claim to a just-vacated table by the wall. It was a prime spot, with booth seats that had enough room for two people on each side, and it was worth the dirty looks it earned them from some of the other patrons who surely outranked the two young men. Starbuck knew Apollo wouldn’t stay past half a centar if he had to mill around and find some way to look purposeful.

Nights out in Caprica City were a rare treat in the grueling schedule of the Academy. Cadets never wore their uniforms out, always hoping to pass for full fledged officers in the clubs and chanceries. Of course, this meant you had to have clothes fit for seeing and being seen. Since he’d started rooming with Apollo the year before, Starbuck’s meager wardrobe had gradually grown to include several items in this category. When he stopped to think about it, he marveled at how Apollo managed to accomplish this without triggering his incoming pity alarms. He tried not to think about it too often.

That night the two of them looked like a pair of aristocrats’ sons out on the town. Starbuck’s shirt, a birthday gift to Apollo from his Aunt Hera that he couldn’t see himself ever wearing, was made of flowing silk in a deep navy color. The gold embroidery around the collar made it a bit showy for Apollo’s taste, but Starbuck loved it. He touched the sleeve surreptitiously, savoring how it slid between his fingers.

He glanced across the table at Apollo, who had ordered their drinks and was quietly scanning the crowd. His roommate was dressed more simply, but no less elegantly, in a black shirt with fashionably draped sleeves.

“See anything you like?”

Apollo shrugged. “What’s the point? I always frack it up anyway.”

Starbuck rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’ll definitely have the ladies flocking to you with that attitude.”

“Seriously Starbuck, I don’t know how you do it.”

Starbuck took a moment to admire his friend properly. Even after seeing him every day for three years, he was still not immune to Apollo’s beauty. The long face with its noble, angular features and stunning green eyes always brought him up short, so he had to conclude that if Apollo never seemed to have much success with women, it was only because he sabotaged himself. “Your problem is you think too much,” he offered. “It can’t all be up here.” He reached across the table to tap Apollo’s forehead.

Apollo grinned wryly. “Yes, I’m aware that there are other organs involved.”

Starbuck laughed. “Well, there’s that. What I meant is you can’t just say you’re interested. You have to, you know, show it. Send signals. If you start talking about it, you kill it.”

“It’s not like I don’t try to do that. Just, the signals I’m sending never seem to get received.” He sighed, dropping his chin into his hand and looking plaintively at Starbuck.

Starbuck took a bracing breath. There was nothing that dampened his enjoyment of an evening out faster than Apollo’s relentless refusal to give himself a chance. “Look, it’s not really that complicated, and once you relax a little you’ll get that. Have some more of that.” He gestured at Apollo’s drink. “How about I give you a demonstration?” He cast his eyes around the club.

“So I can learn by watching the master at work?”

“Exactly.” His smug tone and raised eyebrows earned an answering grin from Apollo.

“How about her?” Apollo tipped his head in the direction of a curly-haired blonde with a pert little nose. She looked about their age, and shot Starbuck a charming smile when he looked in her direction.

“No, no. She’s already waiting for it. There’s no challenge.” His eyes settled on a figure seated at the end of the bar closest to their table. The man was dressed in the tan uniform of a Warrior, and looked a few years older than Starbuck and Apollo. He had a slim, athletic build and light brown hair that hung past his shoulders. He seemed to be alone, and leaned a little wearily against the bar. Probably home on brief leave from some outlying post. There was a kind of romance in that idea, and he was undeniably attractive. A little thrill went through Starbuck as he wondered what Apollo would think. He didn’t give himself time to consider the consequences. “What about him?”

Apollo’s lips parted in surprise, and Starbuck felt his heart rate accelerating. It was too late to take it back now. Without allowing his rakish grin to waver, he waited for the reaction. Apollo’s gaze was scrutinizing, but all he said was, “What if he’s not… you know, interested in men? Couldn’t there be trouble?”

“Don’t worry,” Starbuck said with a casualness he didn’t feel. “I’ll be so subtle, if he’s not looking for it he won’t even notice. No harm, no foul.”

Apollo nodded thoughtfully, “Alright, but you’d better not ditch me all night.”

“Well then,” Starbuck grinned and raised his glass in Apollo’s direction before draining its contents. “I think I need a refill.”

Threading his way through the crowd to the bar, Starbuck’s mind raced through all the reasons that this was a bad idea. The club had to be full of other cadets, though he didn’t recognize anyone in particular. What if someone he knew saw him with a man? And what about Apollo? He could almost feel his friend’s eyes locked on his back as he crossed the floor, and he wondered how much he had just changed things between them. Starbuck had never specifically claimed to be interested only in women, but he had certainly implied it by omission. There were some things it was safest to omit in the close quarters he had to share with his male classmates.

The bar was tightly packed, and Starbuck stepped right into the young warrior’s space as he jostled his way up to it. His arm brushed the other man’s where he rested it against the bar, and Starbuck could see in his peripheral vision the young man’s head turning to look at him. When he was satisfied that the glance was more than just a passing one, he turned and flashed an acknowledging smile, as if he was only just noticing the person whose side he was almost pressed against. The man was even more attractive up close, with full lips and a straight, slender nose. His eyes were pale gray, striking against his tanned skin.

After the briefest glance, he turned his attention back to flagging down the bartender and ordering another glass of ambrosa.

“Crowded in here tonight,” the stranger beside him observed, and when Starbuck turned he saw that the man was looking pointedly at the place where their arms still touched, resting on the bar. His voice was a sweet tenor without even a hint of regional accent.

Starbuck swallowed and managed a smile just short of obviously flirtatious. “About average for Eighth-night.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m only in town for the secton.” He hadn’t moved his arm, and was looking at Starbuck steadily.

“It’s just about impossible to get a table in here,” Starbuck continued, remembering his promise to Apollo, “but my buddy and I managed to grab one over there, if you’d like to join us. I’m Starbuck.”

The stranger nodded, finally cracking a smile. “Janus,” he said by way of introduction, offering his hand. Starbuck shook it with an answering grin. So far so good, he thought. What had passed between them was unmistakable, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t obvious to anyone who might happen to give them a passing glance. He led Janus back to the table, pondering his name. He’d first pegged the stranger for middle or working-class by his bearing, but the smoothness of his speech and the history-laden name forced him to revise his estimate. He was especially glad now for the rich boy costume Apollo had provided for him, and that in the last few sectars he had finally managed to smooth the last few traces of Umbra dialect out of his speech.

“This is my buddy Apollo,” he told the young officer, who introduced himself again. Apollo’s smile when he shook Janus’ hand was shy, and Starbuck wondered how uncomfortable his friend was feeling about sharing a table with a couple of men engaged in a courtship game. Starbuck turned his gaze to Janus and saw the man’s eyes flick over Apollo.

“So, what yahren are you two?” Janus asked as he slid into the booth beside Starbuck.

Starbuck’s shoulders slumped a little, but Apollo smiled gratefully. “Third,” he replied. “One more until our first posting.”

Starbuck knew his roommate had probably been worrying about how to get out of playing one of the usual “let’s pretend we’re older” games. Apollo didn’t understand the desire to pretend to be something he wasn’t only because what he actually was would impress anyone—the brilliant first son of one of Caprica’s most respected families. Apollo’s family was the closest thing Caprica had to nobility since moving to a system of elected leaders, but their line stretched back to the days when nobility had meaning and was passed down from father to son.

“Enjoy that yahren,” said Janus, “The first posting is definitely not the romance you’re expecting. I’m in mine now.”

“Where are you stationed?” Starbuck wanted to know.

“The Atlantia. We’ve been patrolling the mining colonies out past Picon.”

“How has it been out there?” asked Apollo, leaning forward with real interest.

Janus sighed grimly. “Bad. Big losses on our side. The Cylons want those mines something awful. I mean, think about it. They need metal for all the things we need it for, and they need it just to… hmm… reproduce, or whatever you call it with Cylons.” This drew an appreciative laugh from the two cadets. “We came back here for repairs, so this is where I get my leave. I’m from Aquarion. I don’t know anyone in Caprica City.”

The loneliness and weariness suddenly in Janus’ voice passed like a shadow over the three of them, and Starbuck opened his mouth to rescue them with a joke. Before he could speak, though, Apollo was reaching forward to squeeze Janus’ forearm, earnest green eyes fixed on the officer. “How long has it been since you’ve been home?”

Starbuck winced. Trust Apollo to take a depressing conversation and drag it further down.

Janus gave him a sad half-smile, “Almost ten sectars, but it’s not that bad. It’s what I signed up for, you know?”

Apollo nodded. “Yeah. Well, I don’t know yet, but I guess I will soon… Tell me what it’s like to fight the Cylons. I mean, what it’s really like. The stuff they don’t teach you in the tactics classes.”

Janus looked on the brink of amusement for a moment. “That’s quite a question,” he said. “You have a sectar or two?” Something in the intensity of Apollo’s gaze must have convinced him that the cadet deserved a serious answer, because he continued. “For starters, they aren’t as much like machines as I thought they’d be. I mean, I thought it would be like going against a simulator. You just have to figure out how the computer is programmed, and you can beat it. But the Cylons are as adaptable as we are. I know they’ve got circuits for brains, but they really do think.”

Apollo’s eyes were shining as he plied Janus with question after question, and Starbuck was surprised at how intelligently they were framed. Starbuck could really only talk about military matters from a cadet’s point of view. He knew what he had learned in school, and what he had picked up in popular culture. He forgot sometimes that Apollo had grown up steeped in this stuff, that he’d shared family dinners with grizzled war heroes. Now Apollo had a living, breathing officer in front of him who wasn’t treating him like a child. Janus ordered the three of them another round of drinks, and another as the night wore on.

Starbuck felt himself glazing over a bit. He knew that Janus’ attention had slipped from him to Apollo, but still it smarted a little when Janus stood up and moved to Apollo’s side of the table, intent on explaining some strategy by drawing diagrams on Apollo’s napkin.

Apollo reached his arm over Janus’ to point out something in the diagram, and to Starbuck’s surprise he left his hand there, the underside of his wrist resting on Janus’ forearm. Starbuck swallowed, unable to tear his eyes from that point of contact. Apollo’s skin was flushed, and the dark hairs on his arms and hands were slightly raised. He had never seen Apollo so aware of his own body. Starbuck thought he recognized what his friend was experiencing—that feeling of being suddenly, violently aware that your skin is a sense organ, and every inch of it is transmitting messages that clamor for your brain’s attention.

He couldn’t think of an inconspicuous way to look under the table and see if their legs were pressed together, but he was sure that they were.

Janus paused for a moment in his explanation to look intently at Apollo, their faces suddenly quite close as they turned their heads simultaneously. Janus’ eyes traveled slowly down Apollo’s sculpted features to rest on his mouth. They sat like that for a moment, before Apollo squared his shoulders and turned resolutely back to the diagram. Janus let out a breath. “Right. As I was saying…”

Starbuck took his time swirling the ambrosa around in his glass before taking a sip of his drink, just to have a few moments of something to occupy him. He looked around at the crowd, wondering if maybe he should try to find someone else to spend the remains of the evening with. He couldn’t bring himself to leave, though. Not with Apollo sitting across from him looking so sparklingly alive, so he indulged himself in a few minutes of self-pity. As he watched his friend gesturing excitedly, he knew that although he’d been a stranger until tonight, Janus and Apollo were like each other in ways Starbuck would never be like Apollo.

It wasn’t too long before the lights flickered and then brightened, chasing away the intimate ambiance until the club was no more than a large room with a sticky floor and dented tables. A girl in an apron had already started to stack chairs onto tables.

Janus looked around as if suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings again. “Well, the night sure got away from us. It’s been a really nice evening. Thank you, Starbuck.” He reached across the table to shake Starbuck’s hand warmly. “Apollo,” he started, holding out his hand to the younger man. Apollo took it, suddenly shy again. “You two picked quite a time to join up, you know. You’ll see some action for sure, when you graduate.”

Apollo met his eyes solemnly. “We’ll be ready.”

Janus gave him a long, measuring look. “You know, I think you will,” he said seriously. He was still gripping Apollo’s wrist in the traditional warrior’s handshake, but the hold was loose and gentle. Affectionate.

Apollo dipped his head in his endearingly modest way, long eyelashes casting shadows on his high cheekbones.

“I have a room at the Colonial Suites, down the block,” Janus said suddenly. “We could get some ambrosa and bring it back there, if you don’t want the evening to end just yet…” It was clear that he was addressing Apollo alone, and Starbuck did his best to fade into the background. Why should he begrudge his friend this chance? It wasn’t like he didn’t go home with someone half the times they went out together.

Apollo drew back, blushing deeply. “I… ah… I have a big exam on First-day. I really shouldn’t…”

Janus accepted his rejection gracefully and released him, though as he ended the handshake he let his hand slide all the way down Apollo’s in a self-indulgent and barely concealed caress. Wishing them both a good night, the young officer slid out of the booth and retreated out the door.

Starbuck turned back to Apollo, whose eyes were wide and slightly distressed. The distress was quickly replaced as his features lit in a blinding grin. “That was…” he started a little breathlessly, then shook his head. “Let’s go home, Starbuck.”

Out in the street, the warm air of early summer wrapped around them, breeze tugging at their loose sleeves. Apollo slung an arm companionably around Starbuck. Starbuck risked putting a hand on his friend’s waist, allowing himself to enjoy the warmth of Apollo’s skin that radiated through the thin shirt. They jostled playfully against each other the rest of the way home.

* * *

Starbuck still thought of that night, now and then, mostly to regret his own cowardice in the weeks that followed, as Starbuck went back to the much safer game of chasing young women and Apollo fell back into his role of the long-suffering friend who watched from the sidelines.

He was thinking of it on the Rising Star, watching Apollo sip his drink and try to fade into the bulkhead. He wasn’t sure what finally made him say it, but he nudged Apollo’s foot under the table and asked, “Hey, do you remember that officer…I think his name was Janus… ?” Starbuck wasn’t at all unsure of Janus’ name, but he was going for casual.

Apollo looked up abruptly out of his reverie, attention suddenly riveted to Starbuck. “Yes…?” He sounded a little wary.

“You were…” Starbuck glanced around to make sure no one was listening to them and pitched his voice lower. “You were attracted to him, weren’t you?”

The corners of Apollo’s mouth twitched up with something like amusement. “It’s been ten yahrens, Starbuck. Are you actually asking me that now?”

Starbuck looked away. “Hey, sorry.” Apollo amended quickly, and it must have been sinking in what it was costing Starbuck to just say what he meant for once. And then, “Yes, I was.”

“Have there been… other times… you’ve been attracted to men?” Starbuck was still not looking at him.

Apollo dipped his head a little lower, so his eyes were on a level with Starbuck’s downcast ones. His tone was teasing again, but gentler this time. “I don’t know. You’re the expert on body language. What do you think?” He looked pointedly at their forearms, resting against each other on the bar. With a motion that would be invisible to all but the most careful observer, he twitched one finger so that it brushed the side of Starbuck’s hand.

They stayed on the Rising Star that night. There was no way they could have sat through a shuttle ride, or made the long walk from the shuttle bay past dozens of acquaintances to one of their quarters with this new realization between them.

Much later, Apollo nudged a dozing Starbuck. “So, seriously, what took you so long? I’ve been sending you signals for yahrens. I’d pretty much given up hope that you’d ever be interested.”

“It’s not that I didn’t see it. It’s just… I was never sure, I guess. And I couldn’t afford to be wrong. Not with you.” Starbuck stroked Apollo’s cheek, drinking in the affection in the green eyes that looked back at him. “Why didn’t you ever say something?” he asked Apollo.

Apollo smiled sheepishly, “You told me not to.”

“I… what?” Starbuck pushed himself up on one elbow.

“You said, ‘If you start talking about it, you kill it.’”

Starbuck’s head dropped back to the pillow with a thump, “Oh lords,” he groaned, “Haunted forever by the words of a younger and stupider me.”

Apollo shifted closer, pushing Starbuck’s hair gently back from his face with the tips of his fingers. “It’s alright,” he said, moving in for another kiss, “We figured it out eventually.”


End file.
